


The Question

by likelyvalentine (nokkakona)



Category: Dragon's Dogma
Genre: Angst, M/M, Melodramatic Garbage, Prison, happy-ish ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 14:26:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16494341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nokkakona/pseuds/likelyvalentine
Summary: The Arisen spends some time in a cell after punting a jester and wonders how it all went wrong. He can't pinpoint exactly when it all started going downhill, but he's pretty sure it has something to do with the man in the cell across from him.Spoilers for endgame events.





	The Question

**Author's Note:**

> look i didn't edit this but if i did i might not have published it and there's a massive deficit in the number of dragon's dogma fanworks out there so here's this

Everything after the cockatrice fled over Gran Soren's walls was hazy- Arys didn't remember the sticky silence it left in its wake, or the heavy walk back up to the castle, or the look on Aldous' face when he saw the Arisen, dripping in blood and stone, veins blackened from the poison still surging through him, carrying the body of a guard over his shoulder. He didn't remember what he had said- he didn't remember shouting loud enough that his words echoed all the way down into the dungeons, clear as day, and he certainly didn't remember what happened next.

"And then you picked up that beastly little jester and threw him against the wall. Like a sack of potatoes."

It explained why his hands stank vaguely of onions and beeswax.

The headache, though, was a mystery. He suspected it had something to do with the man standing in the cell opposite him, recounting the tale of his arrest as if he were reciting a grocery list. Even past the man's knotted hair and water-drenched rags, he still had the air of what he had once been- the title that was stripped from him with his armor and clothes. Lord Julien. Now, he was simply Julien, the traitor, the viper, the agent of Salvation.

Once he had been Arys' friend.

His hands still shook when he remembered watching Julien fall, the life vanish from his icy gaze. Arys had struck too deep- Julien bled out under his armor before any red stained the ground. Arys was the last person Julien saw before he died, and the first person he saw when he awoke. His murderer. His saviour.

Once, his friend. Perhaps something more.

"You shouted at the guards until- mid-sentence- you became silent. One of the guards must have knocked you out. You were unconscious when they carried you down here."

Arys breathed a deep sigh out of his nose and shut his eyes, letting the cool stone at his back soothe the ache in his head. Perhaps if he ignored Julien for long enough, he would simply return to whatever it was convicted treasonists did while they waited to hang. Perhaps they would take him away now, and put an end to Arys' suffering.

At the thought, his stomach lurched in a sudden burst of anxiety, but he swallowed it down. He said the first words he had spoken to Julien since he had saved his life.

"You're not far enough away that I can't hurt you. So shut your mouth."

Down the hall, the guard called, "Don't make me come over there."

For a brief, blissful moment, it worked. Julien was silent, and all Arys could hear was the sound of dripping water and mice squeaking. Then:

"I did not anticipate this being how we were reunited, Arisen." Julien leaned against the side of his cell's entryway, a flickering shadow half-cast across his face. Arys opened a single eye to observe him. "I had hoped... but that matters not. I simply wondered if, perhaps, you felt some responsibility for my fate, being the one who both took my life and restored it in the space of a few moments. It brings me pleasure to see your face again- although I imagine you are not equally as pleased to see mine."

"I am not," he confirmed dryly.

"And I hold no blame toward you for it." Another moment of silence. This time, Arys held his breath, counting the seconds until Julien began to expend his once more. "I do not deserve it, Arys... but I must ask a question of you. Consider it a dying man's last wish."

"Request denied. I'm going to sleep."

With that, he rolled over, back to the cell door, and concentrated very hard on not moving. Finally, Julien sighed. "Sleep well, Arys," he said, his words so quiet that he had to strain to hear them.

* * *

One night was all it took for chaos to spread through the town, frightened citizens claiming the Arisen had been cut down by the cockatrice. The Duke's men were forced to release him, and he returned to his daily life, accompanied by his restored pawn.

Days passed- he was sent to the Greatwall Encampment to aid in a search party, and then ferried back to Cassardis to deal with an escaped prisoner whom the Duke feared was an agent of Salvation. In those days, Arys tried to put Julien's request out of his mind. His anger at Julien slowly dissipated as time passed, but the cocktail of betrayal and disgust- mainly at himself- persisted like a bad cough. Reynard was nowhere to be found, and Mercedes had left for Hearthstone. Quina was busy at the Abbey, and Felix brought Arys feathers because he thought they made Arys happy, but he couldn't understand what his master felt- no pawn could. There was no respite for his woes.

It was inevitable that he find himself back at the dungeons several times. Each night he returned, standing on the last step before entering the cell block, and each night, he talked himself out of going any further.

He wasn't sure what had been different about tonight. Perhaps the guard's annoyed stares finally became too much for him. Perhaps Felix had given him one feather too many, or he had eaten bad salmon for dinner. Whatever it was, on this night, he found himself standing in the cell of the man who had betrayed all of Gransys, holding his dinner tray.

"Is this to be my last meal? Certainly the trial could not have happened without my presence."

Julien looked even more haggard than when Arys had last seen him. His normally bright hair hung limply over his shoulders, now dirt-mottled and matted, and his face was gaunt, the dark circles under his eyes more akin to bruises.

He took the tray from Arys with hands that shook even though he tried to steady them. Instead of eating, he laid the tray down on his bed, the only surface in the cell.

"Your silence fills me with anxiety, Arisen. Why have you come?"

Arys wished he knew the answer.

"You wanted to ask me something last time I was here," he ventured. It was a good enough reason as any.

"Then you'll answer my question?"

"If I like the question."

Julien's gaze was still icy, even through the grime on his face. "You may not like it."

"Ask anyway."

"Why did you restore me? I did not deserve it."

"No. You did not deserve to die. I was only fixing my own mistake. I didn't mean to..." Arys bit the inside of his cheek. "Killing you- that was the worst I've ever felt."

"Forgive me, but you've had your heart ripped out of your chest by a dragon. Or are the tales of how one becomes Arisen exaggerated?"

Arys took Julien's hand and brought it to the scar on his chest. The only pulse there was Julien's, and it quickened as Arys looked into his eyes. "You are my friend. Maybe you don't deserve to be. But you are."

Julien's hand slipped out of his grasp. Hesitantly, he reached toward Arys, fingers ghosting across his cheek. "I think perhaps I wanted to be more."

Arys turned his head away. "You have poison in your heart, Julian." 

"Perhaps I'll be lucky enough to become Arisen. Though the wyrm would have to act quickly... My trial grows near."

Arys reached back toward him, taking the hand he had spurned before. "I won't let them execute you. But not because you don't deserve it."

"Why, then?"

"Because I used a perfectly good wakestone on you, and if the Duke sees fit to waste the life I restored, he owes me at least 100,000 gold." Julien smiled, but Arys continued. "I'm serious. Wakestones aren't exactly a copper a dozen. Your life was expensive."

Julien's fingers intertwined with his, warm despite the cold around them. "Then I will spend my days trying to repay you."


End file.
